The Crow:Dead Doll
Warnings, Disclaimers
and Acknowledgements:Adult themes. If you're under 18 and read this then
there's not much I can do about it, just don't email me and bitch about
your mind being warped due to the matrial I write. If you're gonna do that,
then don't read it.
The Crow concept doesn't belong to me (I wish), it belongs to James O'Barr.
I use my own character, just kinda in his Universe.
I'd like to thank Richard Stevenson for kicking my ass back into writing
and not judging the stuff I write becaws it's not exactly the norm. This
is still a work in progress.... there'll be more of Chapter 2 shortly. and
maybe even a prolouge. We'll see...
So, without further babble, here's the story.
Eva started awake and tried to sit up. Banging her head, she lay back down. Where was she? Her head spun as she felt around her, her fingers running over smooth material on walls around her. What the fuck is this? she thought. There were walls, all around her, an inch from her body, covered with material.
A coffin.
She was in a coffin. Screaming out she clawed fantically at the material over her head. "Let me out of here!" She screamed, "I'm not dead yet!" The accuracy, or lack there of, of that last statement meant nothing to her, not yet.
*calm down*
A voice was intruding in her head. A harsh, mournful cry. Shaking her head, knocking her forehead on the top of the casket, the voice quieted. "I'm too stressed right now, just voices... They'll go away once i'm out of this.... this.... coffin... ." Eva chanted to herself as if the words were a mantra. Shaking her head and screaming, she attacked the wall again.
*calm down.... push it open... with your arms and legs... push hard...*
The voice was back. It was dark and she couldn't tell how close the walls were to her. Repressing the urge to shake her head again to somehow dislodge the voice, she breathed deeply, once. Drawing up her hands and legs, she inhaled then pushed a s hard as she could against the top of the coffin.
Nothing happened.
But Eva didn't stop. Her muscles strained against the resistance, and sweat beaded along her eyebrow. A creak. Then...
**SNAP**
The hinges flew off of the lid of the casket, and the earth moved enough so Eva could see a solitary shaft of moonlight. The wan light tore at her eyes and she gasped as her pupils tried to restrict.
Crawling out of the coffin, she had to try twice to hoist her deathly skinny body to level ground. There was rain... or dew on the ground, on the grass, making the dirt from the grave stick to her long skirt and bare arms. But she didn't care. Tears mixed with the rain and she lay on the ground sobbing weakly, not even bothering to wonder where the hell she was.
It was raining, the smell of musty earth rising out of the freshly dug grave like the clouds of icy breath that were being exhaled from the group of people. Someone's shoulders were shaking silently. Weither it was from the cold or from the sad ness that one could only know from losing someone you love unexpectedly, no one could tell.
"Aaaahh." Eva gasped as she felt the memory rip through her body like lightning. What was that? she thought, too phased by the intensity and pain of the flashback to say the words aloud. It didn't matter, there was no one to hear her.
*Get up, move* The voice was back. Drawing her self slowly to her hands and knees, she felt, more than heard some movement of air above her. Pushing herself back to a kneeling position, she looked up.
A huge shadow fell over her, wings flapping, and a singular black feather landed in front of her. With trembling hands, she picked it up, somehow understanding that she was meant to. Holding the feather in her fist, Eva stood finally on shaky legs. A moment of drunken clarity she looked at the disrupted grave, realizing that her name was on the headstone, and that it was her grave.
"Fucccckk!!" Eva yelled, her voice hoarse and sounding like a crow's battle cry. As if she had called it, the crow landed on her headstone and looked at Eva with hematite eyes and cocked it's head as if it were listening to her. Looking at it with contempt, not knowing where else to direct her feelings, she took a shaky step toward the black bird. "So what the fuck am I? A vampire? A zombie? The holy fucking undead?? Why did you do this to me? Why am I back here when I don't even want to be? Am I even alive? Can people even see me? Am I a ghost?" a pause. "Would you even tell me if you knew? Do you even have any answers?" The crow looked at her and cocked his head slightly the other way. "Yeah, I fucking thought so. Leave me alone!" Eva screamed and turned, almost falling down. Catching herself on a nearby headstone, she looked at the bird with unbridled hostility.
"So now what?" She sneered.
The bird bowed its head then took off in a flurry of feathers. Eva looked at the bird, half annoyed.
"If you think I'm following you then you're gonna be dissapointed." Eva scowled, leaning heavily on the headstone. Resting her forehead on the cold, wet marble, she slowly closed her eyes.
"Perhaps you should. You might learn something." The voice Eva heard was unlike the one in her head. This voice was as comforting as nails being dragged savagely across a chalkboard, but quieter, somehow strangely enticing. Like a moth attracted to a flame.
"Who the hell are you?" Eva said, didn't look at the origin of the voice but slowly started to stand up.
"Your mentor." the simple reply caused Eva to turn. Gasping, her knees buckled and Eva crumpled to the ground. Even in the wan moonlight the figure looked horrific.
Limp and dirty blonde hair framed the figures waxy pale skin which seemed to cast a greenish tinge, as if the flesh was decomposing on her bones. A long flowing white dress hung off of her sickly figure. The flames in her sunken-in eye sockets seemed oblivious to the ever-present rain. Eva laid on the ground trying not to look.
A shrill cry broke through the gentle sound of the rain hitting the grass. Responding to the cry, the crow flew towards the mentor as if to attack her. Eva looked away just as the silence fell. Looking back, the bird was perched on the deathish mentors forearm, claws puncturing the paper thin skin, rivulets of deep red, almost black blood dripped from the wounds onto the damp earth.
"This is to guide you, Listen to it." The deathish mentor moved her arm in a sweeping motion to launch the bird toward Eva, who ducked from it. When she looked back up she was alone again.
Standing up slowly Eva cursed. "I'm losing my fucking mind." The bird looked at her then flew away again. Eva sighed heavily then followed on shaky legs through the rain drenched streets.
"Deal with it, there's no way I'm freeing my fucking ass off." Roach said, slowly taking a long toke off of the joint and blowing the acrid smoke directly at Meth. Meth turned around and punched him.
"Fucking give me that." Meth stole the joint and took another toke, cursing under her breath.
"Asshole... so where the fuck are we going? I wanna fuck some people up man. Find us a sweet little bitch and Fuck her up!!!" Roach punched the top of the car.
"Calm down man, we'll get some before the night is over, that's for sure. We's going to visit some friends first though. Gotta get provisions." Meth passed the joint back to Roach. "Here Roach, have a roach."
Roach scowled as he took it. "Everyone's a fucking comedian, isn't they?"
Eva stumbled along the dark alley, tears of anger welling up in her eyes, clouding her vision. Her muscles were weak with exhaustion and sore from not being used in the last..... how long had it been? She didn't even know what year it was. Stumbling at the thought, she fell to the ground, crying in earnest now. She lay there for what seemed like an eternity but was really a few minutes.
"Awk!" The crow called, bringing Eva out of her reverie.
*move, keep moving* the voice urged. Was this voice the voice of the crow, or just something that her struggling mind had created to urge her on? Nonetheless, she obeyed the voice and got up slowly.
The neighborhood looked vaguely familiar, she noticed as she walked, urged on by the crow. Leading her by jumping on a perch about 15 feet ahead of her, then as soon as she came close, jumping to the next perch. Finally the crow lead her to a door and cawed loudly.
Getting the message to push open the door, she stumbled into an apartment. Only then did she recognize it as hers. Stacks of mail littered her floor, old bills, personal letters, things claiming that she may have won a million dollars. Cursing as she kicked them to the side, she entered the apartment, the crow flying over her shoulder in a flurry of black feathers. Finding a perch on the back of a chair the crow watched Eva's every move.
Slowly Eva walked around the apartment, not touching anything, as if she was afraid it was a dream and would vanish if she dared touch it. There was a thin coating of dust everywhere she looked and boxes were strewen around the apartment, with things randomly tossed into them. She didn't remember it looking like this. Nearly tripping over a box of books, she flinched as she felt a memory tear though her body.
Kevan, crying, putting books in a box, looking at the inscription on one of them. Even though the book wasn't open, she knew which one it was, it was the one he had given her for christmas, Breakfast at Tiffany's. "I'll always love you" scrawled on the inside cover, with Christmas '00 under it.
Eva screamed. Her body seemed to scream back, and she recoiled from the books. Bumping against a chair, she recoiled again, a new memory.
This was where she was sitting when it happened. Alone, reading. Blanket draped around her. Then a pair of strong cold hands clamped around her mouth. She tried to fight, straining against the hands. Then she looked up, and realized who it was. Trying desperately to scream she kicked at the air until she felt a blow graze her cheek...
Eva's body convulsed slightly and she curled into a fetal position on the dusty rug. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear cawing and a bird flapping it's wings, she didn't quite remember why that was significant. Trying to breathe slowly, Eva slowly ran her hands through her hair, moving as if she was under water. Two circular scars ran through her wrists, as if they'd been shot or something. Running her right hand over her left wrist she tossed her head violently.
She was dead. She didn't know how she knew that fact, she just did. But she wasn't in her body, she watched an overweight man wrestle with the dead weight of her flesh. She couldn't quite see what he was doing until he pulled back, forcing the limp, dead arm to go up. A thick yarn needle covered in blood was in his hands with some twine threaded through it. Eva's eyes followed the twine back to it's source, and realized it was through her body's wrist. Maniacal laughter grated on her senses.
Then there was a peaceful darkness. And Eva felt nothing.
And as good luck would have it, there was one girl walking down the street, not 20 yards away from the old car Meth was driving.
"Meth, Meth dude, pull over. I see her, oh yeah baby, do I see her." Roach jumped in his seat.
Meth saw her too, but only regarded Roach with a mild air of annoyance. "Get a grip dickwad. If you scare her off right away we'll have nothin and you'll be stuck with just your hand to get you through the night." Meth stubbed out his cigarette as he pulled the car over. Casually getting out, he brought his knife with him.
The knife he carried wasn't anything flashy, just an old hunting knife that was given to him by his father years ago. The handle of it was covered with some greasy substance that never seemed to come off, but Meth hardly noticed the dirtiness of the knife and he flashed it in the yellow street lights.
The girl seemed to walk a little faster.
"Hey babe, you got the time?" Meth asked casually.
The woman's face seemed to soften a little as she looked at her watch for a moment. That moment was all he needed.
Meth grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around so her back was against his chest. She could feel his hard-on digging into her back and the cold metal edge of the knife pressed against her skin. She started crying.
"You can have my wallet, and this watch, it's all I have, just don't hurt me." She was trying to control the hysterical fear she felt moving up her stomach and into her throat.
Meth laughed. "That's not what I want baby, I want this sweet little body you have. You don't mind if I take that for a little while, do you?"
The lady, without warning, lurched forward and started throwing up at Meth's feet. He could hear Roach's laughter coming from the car. Smacking the lady over the head with one of his fists, she crumpled on to the ground beside the mess, and Meth shoved the knife into his pocket again.
The knife had cut her neck just a little, but not enough to be a threat to their good times tonight, just enough to scare her and let her know they were serious about their threats to hurt her if she didn't comply to their wishes. Picking her up over his shoulder, he tossed her into the back seat of the car, hitting her head against the roof accidentally.
All that was left on the street was the vomit and her bag. On an after thought Meth grabbed the purse, and tossed it into the trunk, then drove away quickly. No one saw either of them.
~AWK!!~ The crow called to her, trying to urge her to get up. Sighing as she tried to gather her strength, she looked around the apartment, her eyes fell on the pile of mail that she had kicked over. Crawling over to it, she sifted through it, looking at the most recent post marks on the envelopes, trying to decide what month it might be.
October 13th, the envelope read. What month did she die again? July? She remembered Kevan's birthday. that was July 12...
She had lost 3 months and change. "Damn," she said under her breath. Picking up the phone, not knowing who she'd call but wanting some human contact, the line was dead. Panicking for a moment, she realized that there was probably no one paying her phone bill, and the line was cut. After 3 months, it's amazing that they hadn't sent anyone to try to collect the overdue fees.
*Perhaps they have...* Eva mused, suddenly realizing that there would have been no one to collect from.
Touching the area rug beside her, she tensed into another flashback.
Kevan laid in the same place that Eva had laid, crying softly. Another woman touched his shoulder, and asked him if he was ok softly. He touched her hand softly and nodded.
Kevan fell into the woman's arms, if this was before or after the previous flashback, Eva didn't know, but she saw him hold the woman close to him, as if she could ease his pain.
Eva came back to herself, shaking and unsure of her surroundings. The crow cawed, and Eva flinched.
"Leave me alone..." Eva breathed quietly.
The crow cawed again.
Getting up and stumbling into the bathroom, Eva twisted the bolt on the door behind her, locking the crow out. The lights were not working, electricity had been cut. Fumbling for a lighter, Eva lit the candle on the back of the toilet, casting a wan glow around the room. Running some water and tossing it on her face, she toweled off and looked at herself again in the mirror. Her long black hair was a mess around her face, matted and crazy.
She hated the way she looked. She looked so... dead. Anger ripped through her like a fire. Picking up the straight razor on the counter beside the sink, she raked it across her skin savagely. She could feel the skin slicing, cells breaking, and blood flowing up to the surface. Then it felt as if everything was going backwards.
The wound on the skin closed, and all that was left was the small amount of blood that had been shed.
"What the fuck????" Eva muttered. Cutting herself again, a deep cut along her wrist, which if left to bleed should kill her, she watched the wound close. Screaming out of frusteration, she punched the wall, leaving a dent where her fist hit it. Cut after cut healed as Eva got more and more upset. Angry, she slammed the bloody razor onto the counter and looked into the mirror.
Bloodshot blue eyes stared back at her through her tossled black hair.
Picking up a pair of sliver scissors, she held them to her hair. The light from the candle glinted off of the sharp blades as they snapped closed and a huge lock of raven colored hair fell into the sink. Lock after lock fell around her like a ring of raven feathers.
Surveying her hair in the mirror again, she started, seeing a gaunt face look her back. Thinking for a moment that it might be herself, she gasped.
"What are you doing still here? Why are you wasting your time?" The reflection said, suddenly realizing it wasn't her but her mentor, her eyes went wide.
"Wh-what?"
"Don't you realize you were brought back for a reason?"
Eva looked around, "I suppose so, I guess."
"Then you realize that you have something to do, and that it's important."
"I don't even want to be back here, why did I come back? I just want to rest, I want to sleep in the abyss. I can't -- I can't face this again, I don't want to." Eva yelled. Somewhere inside herself she knew that what her mentor spoke was true, but she didn't want to accept it.
"But you have to... you don't have a choice." The harsh voice replied.
Eva looked into the mirror, speechless.
"Why?" Eva finally croaked.
"Because you died an unjust death. You were murdered, before your time. You have a chance, just one, to make it right again. Do you remember anything from the past 3 months?"
Eva tried to recall, but it was like a dream, the harder she thought about it the harder it was to remember. Slowly, she answered. "No."
"Keep that in mind as you spend your time here. It's not infinite. You have till Hallowe'en. Then you go back, weither you're done or not."
"Shut up!! Shut the hell up!!" Eva felt anger, red hot rage though her body. Picking up a tube of black lipstick she smeared it on the mirror, over the mentors face. Punching it, she walked away from the mirror. The mentor was now gone, only Eva's own reflection looked back at her though the cracks and black smears.
She sank back on the edge of the bathtub, thinking about the words that had been said. She had two weeks, more or less, to set things right. She looked at the white scars on her wrists, small puncture wounds, and the lines running over her skin. Could this ever be made right? Is there even a way to make it all seem... just? Part of her scarcely dared to wonder, part of her wanted to see if she COULD make a difference. She was angry at how she had been wronged, how she had been killed as a piece of meat, not as a human.
Stepping up to the smeared and cracked mirror she punched it again. Anger controlled her as she smeared white make up on her face. With short, violent strokes, she accented her eyes and lips with dark kohl, painting a smile, almost more like a deathly grimace onto her white face. A sudden sob racked her body and she hid her face in her hands. After a moment, she raised her head again, her fingers trailing down her white face. Kohl trailed down her cheeks, where her fingers had touched and where her tears had fallen. Running her hands through her short, wild hair, she looked at herself again, deciding that she was satisfied with what she saw, she walked out of the bathroom, to find a pair of black leather pants half-hanging out of a box. Weither they were there before or not, she wasn't sure. She slipped them on.
Pulling a black shirt that was ripped and on the floor over herself, she yanked on a pair of combat boots and her black full-length leather jacket. Walking out of the apartment, the crow landed on her shoulder. For just a moment, she looked the part of the avenging angel.
